


Bowl or Blunt?

by des0lates0ul



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: I Don't Even Know, M/M, Marijuana, basically jughead and archie get high, there's some making out too
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-17
Updated: 2017-04-17
Packaged: 2018-10-19 23:53:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,209
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10650702
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/des0lates0ul/pseuds/des0lates0ul
Summary: Jughead Jones is having a long week and his boyfriend decides to treat him with the only thing that'll help.Or, Archie and Juggie get high together in the dugout and make out a bit.





	Bowl or Blunt?

So much stress to stress about. So much school work to put off until the last minute. So much evidence to gather and put into new chapters and documents. These were the three things that Jughead couldn’t get out of his brain as he sat in his regular booth at Pop’s, waiting for his cheeseburger to come out from the kitchen.

It was no surprise that the boy was overwhelmed and anxious out of his mind. He’d been slacking on all of his class work, all of his homework, and all other outside assignments. And instead of working to get things done and catch up, he spent almost all of his time writing novel, a non-fictional story of the murder of Jason Blossom. With so much to do, so much time to waste overthinking, and even more time to spend working (which was never done), Jughead was engulfed in stressors that he couldn’t shake. 

This particular day, though. This drenched and desolate Thursday afternoon was taking a particular toll on the raven-haired boy. Not even his research was giving him peace from the anxiety dwelling in his frail chest, and that was the one thing he loved most about writing.

He also knew not to bother his boyfriend right after a long practice, but it was six o’clock in the afternoon and he needed someone to keep him sane for the rest of the night so that he wouldn’t have another breakdown. (He’d had one before, and it was the worst experience of his short life so far).

Before he could thoroughly think his options through, he had already begun typing a text to Archie that bribed the redhead with kisses, new evidence and a cheeseburger on the house (that he’d been promised a while back and was waiting to save for a special occasion). Jughead had hardly placed his phone back onto the table beside his laptop when it vibrated, lighting up with a notification: a “YES” from Archie, all caps and all.

Jug continued to type away at the open document on his computer, sea-glass eyes flitting back and forth between his evidence notes and the document itself to make sure that each and every letter was typed precisely. Between typing and slow reaches for his third milkshake of the afternoon, he’d made more progress than he’d expected to and decided to call it quits for the day.

The second his laptop closed shut, Archie walked through the front door of the small diner and made eye contact with Jughead from where he stood. Retrieving the cheeseburger at the counter that his boyfriend had already ordered for him, Archie smiled and made his way to the booth across from Jug. He smiled before grabbing the burger monstrously in both hands and taking the largest, most unappealing bite he could muster. He had come from a three hour long practice, though, so it seemed fitting.

“I finished before you got here. But lucky for you, I’m kind enough to show you all that I accomplished while you dilly-dallied your way here.” Jughead eyed the redhead over the now open top of his laptop screen, entering his password before turning the device around entirely to show Archie what he’d accomplished.

It was nearly a full chapter, with cold hard facts and references to interviews that he’d had with those that’d been closest to and furthest from Jason Blossom. In order to scroll through each of the newly typed paragraphs, Archie frantically wiped one greasy hand haphazardly on a napkin and began tapping the down arrow on the keyboard.

“Way more than I expected today, Jug. You’ve been in a funk all week,” Archie spoke around the fragments of burger and cheese and bun in his mouth. It disgusted Jughead, to say the least, but it was his boyfriend after all so he figured he could manage. “Let’s get the usual from Reggie and chill at the dugout, what d’ya say?”

Usually it was easy for Jughead to refuse an opportunity to smoke marijuana, especially on a school night. But Archie was right, he really had been in a funk and needed something to ease his mind. School tomorrow or not, it was nearly a necessity at this point.

Jug and Archie both knew the dangers of drugs. Anything more than marijuana was to be stayed away from, too toxic and too destructive to fragile human bodies for them to ever fully recuperate. Weed was as far as either of them would ever go, and even then, it’s a plant. Alcohol does more harm to people than some good weed does.

And so they grabbed their belongings, placed a small pile of cash on the table, and exited Pop’s. It wasn’t too long of a walk to the school, but Jughead was an impatient, impractical bastard that wished he could just think his way to any destination. Archie, alternately, was nearly deceased from his football practice less than an hour before, and gave Jughead as much shit as possible to make him seem like a whiney baby.

Before they’d left, Archie had already sent a message to Reggie. Phone calls were preferable, but he didn’t care to look like a scrubby teen in front of the Pop’s staff, who thought rather fondly of him. It was vague, hard to understand from the outside, but Archie knew that Reggie would make sense of the text and get him what he asked for.

The three boys met on the corner of North and Main Street. Reggie was in his car with the windows rolled down, vaping and blowing o’s absentmindedly. Jughead had taken a seat on the curb and had his laptop resting on his thighs again, proofreading what he’d finished earlier. Archie was pacing awkwardly, nudging Jug with his knee every once in awhile. 

As soon as the black car pulled to the curb, narrowly missing Jughead’s feet, Archie was climbing into the passenger seat. He handed the tan boy a twenty dollar bill, covering the cost of one nug and a small pipe, with rolling papers on the house. He was a friend, and a regular customer after all. Archie stuffed the plastic bag into his varsity jacket, hoping that no one had seen the transaction before thanking Reggie and removing himself from the vehicle. As soon as the door closed, the engine was revved and the car was gone in an instant.

Jughead replaced his laptop in its case and made eye contact with the redhead.

“Strain? Cost? Amount?”

Archie wasn’t sure of anything except for the cost, which he called out before continuing to avoid the other queries that his boyfriend was harassing him with.

It wasn’t long before the two had made their way behind the school to the old baseball field right at the edge of the woods. The dugouts were still there, in rough condition but standing. No one goes there unless they’re trying to get high or laid, and no one comes back from there without one event or the other fresh in their mind. And seeing as it was a Thursday evening, there was no way that anyone else would be there when they arrived, nor would anyone arrive while they were there.

They made their way into the dugout, stepping through roaches and beer cans and the occasional condom wrapper. It was quite easy to get distracted by the graffiti though, copious amounts of “fuck riverdale” and “call me for a good fuck” spray-painted onto the walls. There was one individual one that really caught both of their attentions, causing them to trip over each other in hysterics, pointing and laughing. 

“‘Nothing says ‘I love you’ like ass play,’ I guess,” Jughead wheezed out, laughing much harder than necessary.

“Wouldn’t you be the one to agree, Juggie?” Archie gave him a sly smirk and a wink before reaching into his pocket for his latest purchase. 

“Oh piss off, Andrews. I’d leave you right now if it weren’t for that pretty face of yours.”

“Or maybe it's because you just want my weed, isn’t that right Jones?”

Jughead rolled his eyes, shoving his boyfriend before sitting down on the bench. It was starting to get way later than anticipated, but as long as they were both home before eleven it didn’t matter.

“Hey Donnie Darko, bowl or blunt?”

“Bowl, always.”

It was never a hard question for him to answer because it seemed so simple for him. Reusable, relatively easy to clean, and better for your lungs than paper. If that last one even mattered, since they were still smoking either way and that’d do its damage to their lungs eventually.

Instead of screwing around with the nug and struggling to remove the stems, Archie simply took it out of the dimebag and packed it into the small, glass bowl. It was clear glass, which was bland, but it was always better than the wraps.

The honey-eyed boy took a lighter out of his pocket, flicking it once to make sure it still worked. He handed Jughead the clear pipe who put it up to his lips and waited for his courteous companion to light it up for him. As soon as the familiar crackling started, he breathed into his mouth and then down into his lungs, watching smoke rise from the bowl like a phoenix from the ashes. Removing his finger from the carb, Jug inhaled the last of the hit and held the fumes in his chest for a few moments as he passed the pipe to Archie and took his lighter, returning the favor. 

They repeated the process until there was nothing left to be scorched and smoked.

The two were complete opposites in the way that they handled marijuana. Jughead felt the results almost immediately, time starting to slow down within seconds of his first hit. Archie, on the other hand, had about ten minutes between his first hit and his brain getting hazy. It just made the interlude time more interesting for the both of them, Archie laughing at Jug’s instantaneous droopy eyelids while waiting for his own to fall. 

It wasn’t anything out of the ordinary when Archie leaned his head back against the wall of the dugout and asked Jughead for the hundredth time what he thought of the stars and the universe. It happened every time they smoked together and Juggie always had the same answer: the stars are intimidating and the universe is infinite which makes it difficult to understand. 

The two loved the philosophical discussions that they had together, high as kites. It was much different to hear someone’s opinion after smoking a jay than in a sober state. People are more likely to let truths slip when they feel comfortable, and marijuana was the one thing other than Archie that made Jug feel secure. Combining the two was usually a recipe for secret spilling, but not on this particular day. 

On this particular day, Juggie couldn’t tear his eyes away from Archie’s neck, the pale moon illuminating his Adam’s apple and the sharp edges of his jawline. Every time he spoke, his throat bobbed and his head fell back against the graffiti covered wall. It took all of Jughead’s power not to rip all of his boyfriend’s clothes off right then and there, so he resorted to starting out slow. 

The raven-haired boy leaned to the side, his cheek on his boyfriend’s collar while his lips were on the redhead’s neck. It was so soft that Archie hardly realized it was there before Jughead opened his mouth and lightly bit the sensitive skin. This made Archie squirm and giggle, earning a smirk from Jughead who proceeded to throw one leg over Archie’s thighs and sit down.

Jug continued to nibble and lick at his boyfriend’s neck, both of them grunting lightly and slowly getting more and more handsy. The marijuana was in full effect at this point, time slowing to a near stop and lighting their nerve endings on fire. Every time they touched each other, flames spread across the skin and so did emotions across the heart. 

It was after a few minutes of lips-on-neck action that Jughead moved up to Archie’s lips, taking the bottom one between his own and nibbling lightly. The boy responded with a low groan and a shift of his hips, his hands sliding down Juggie’s back and straight to his ass.

Lips and tongues and maybe a few teeth every now and again were all that were heard through the haziness that was the boys’ brains. Hips were grinding absentmindedly, hands were roaming from ass to shoulders and all the way back down. Hair was pulled and thighs were gripped. Lustful eyes looked into other lustful eyes. Sea glass against honey. Pale pink lips against flushed tan ones.

The two boys were hot messes, but the evening smoke was just what Jughead needed to get back into the groove of things and revive his want to continue working on his novel and schoolwork.

To put it lightly, the bloodshot eyes with droopy lids got too carried away, feeling every touch ignite and losing track of the time. 

Let’s just say they weren’t home before eleven.


End file.
